


Hush

by kekinkawaii



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 18:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kekinkawaii/pseuds/kekinkawaii
Summary: Tiny bells lined the wide oaken door, sending a quiet melancholy melody tinkling through the air with the faint ruffle of a breeze. A collection of pumpkins and squashes stood to the side, artfully arranged. Above the door, a sign was scrawled in a loopy, sprawling cursive.“Dirk Gently's Mystical Magic Menagerie," Todd said, out loud.





	Hush

Every weekday at 5:17, Todd exited the subway station, escaped up the dirty, dusted stairs, and arrived on surfacing ground on the crossing between Goldenbloom Street and Birchwood Avenue. From there: take a right turn to head down the latter, past the cluttered old bookshop and the cupcake boutique, the hairdresser's and the cafe, the strange darkened alley between the last of the two that he never had quite enough courage to dip a toe in and explore in detail. A few turns later, he'd reach his apartment, cozy up on the couch in front of the TV (blankets piled higher as Autumn slowly dipped into the cold bite of winter), and enjoy the rest of the day off. It may have only been a few months since he’d moved to the small town he now called home, but routine had already settled in comfortably like an old friend.

On this specific Tuesday, Todd exited the subway station at 5:17, went through the stairs, and turned right at the avenue. He passed the bookshop and the boutique and the hairdresser's and the cafe—and then came to a gradual but exponential standstill at where the damp and darkened alley stood.

In its place, there was a shop.

Tiny bells lined the wide oaken door, sending a quiet melancholy melody tinkling through the air with the faint ruffle of a breeze. A collection of pumpkins and squashes stood to the side, artfully arranged. Above the door, a sign was scrawled in a loopy, sprawling cursive.

“Dirk Gently's Mystical Magic Menagerie," Todd said, out loud, and stepped a bit off the sidewalk to allow the other pedestrians to stroll past him, inadvertently moving closer to the quirky little shop, its wooden doors and silver bells.

He checked his watch. It was 5:20. His favourite TV show was starting in half an hour.

After a moment’s deliberation, Todd took the few final steps that led him right to the front of the shop. He caught his reflection in the polished glass window—tentative nervousness mingled with curiosity, wide blue eyes—before he pushed open the door.

Immediately, a voice rang out: clear and high, thrumming with enthusiasm.

“Hi there! Anything I can help you with?”

The figure had been bent, hidden by a counter covered with papers and books, but now it straightened to greet the new visitor. As he did, Todd caught his first sight of the man: a splitting grin, flashing blue eyes, a glittering yellow bomber jacket.

When he saw Todd, his eyes sharpened, then widened.

“Oh, you’re new here, aren’t you?” he said. “I don’t remember seeing you around.” 

At Todd’s nod, the man stepped out from behind the counter, unfolding a long, lanky torso and legs, and spread his arms in greeting. His voice deepened in faux-solemnity.

“Welcome to Dirk Gently—that’s me, by the way—so technically mine—Mystical Magic Menagerie! Feel free to browse around. Ask questions if you have any. I’m great at small talk, even with people who aren’t: I’ve been told I have an uncanny ability to fill the gaps in conversations, even if the gap lasts the entire conversation.” He grinned again, and Todd blinked, slightly starstruck by the blinding cheer in the expression. “So ask away, talk away, ignore me completely, whatever floats your boat.”

“Oh,” Todd said, mildly stunned at the barrage of words. “Okay.”

Unflinchingly, Dirk beamed. He reached out and patted Todd’s shoulder in an easy and relaxed manner that did absolutely nothing to lighten Todd’s awkwardness. Dirk didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Any questions?” Dirk asked.

“Huh?” Todd said, and looked around at the store: caught glimpses of books and bottles, plants and pincushions. “Yeah, actually—when did this store open? Or, um. Get built?”

Dirk blinked, cocking his head. A splitting side image of a curious Spaniel puppy popped into Todd’s mind, unwarranted. “No one built it. I only have enough power to make it manifest during Autumn—near Hallow’s Eve.” Suddenly, his brows drew together. “Are you one of those protesters? I promise, I’m not doing anything bad! _ Miscellaneous _ goods! For _ miscellaneous _ purposes only. I’ve been thinking of adding that to my shop name, too—Dirk Gently’s Miscellaneous Mystical Magic Menagerie—but it’s enough of a mouthful as it is.” He took a step back and wrung his hands, agitated. “I’m not causing any harm! My shop is _ very _safe. And fun at the same time. With small pranks, and trinkets, and, erm, the occasional injury. But I always fix them up right away afterwards!” 

Dirk clasped his hands together and gave Todd the hugest, dopiest, puppy-dog eyes he hadn’t imagined could be possible. “Please don’t make me relocate. This town has one of the strongest auras I’ve ever seen. It wouldn’t be the same anywhere else!”

Todd was finding himself rather bewildered: it was like with every sentence Dirk spoke, it only served to pile on the questions more and more, until he found himself at a loss for any more inquiries against this relentless onslaught of confusion.

“No, I—it’s okay,” he said. “It’s fine. I just wanted to have a look around, that’s all.”

Dirk looked immensely relieved, and immediately sprang into action (in the form of words hurled towards Todd at a velocity too high to calculate, like a torrent of softballs). “Alright, then. Just be sure not to touch the Venus Rat-Traps. And don’t read any passages out loud—even if the book automatically flips to the page when you get near it. Especially when the book automatically flips to the page when you get near it. Oh! Don’t drink anything that’s out in the open, even if it smells amazingly, brilliantly, euphorically good—especially if it—well, you get the gist of it. I have special storage for edible goods, so just call if you get hungry and want a sample—I make a _ mean _ cheesecake.”

Another jingling of the bells near the entrance drew Dirk from his rant. He jumped, twirled three-quarters of a full rotation to fully face the door, and brightened at the new arrival.

“Sam!” he called out happily. “So nice for you to come! Here for your pick-up? It’s right in the back, I’ll just go get that for you in a jiffy.”

As he began to leave, he turned his head around and gave Todd a final wave, grin, and thumbs-up before disappearing behind the counter once more. Displacement zero, destruction to Todd’s finely constructed structure of everything that was orderly and made sense in this world too big of a number to count.

-+-+-+-

The next day, Todd exited the subway station, went up the stairs, realized that about a dozen people a minute were giving him funny looks and bewildered eyes, and then went back down the stairs and entered a washroom to see what the hell was going on.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and looked into the mirror. 

He stared.

He turned around, walked back and forth between the stalls for a moment to clear his head, then looked back into the mirror again.

A tiny, floating creature of what appeared to be some sort of puppy flitted above his head, around and around in circles. It had tiny shimmering wings that flapped as it flew. It was white all over with brown spots over its face and pudgy, round body.

As it rounded Todd’s left ear and caught its reflection in the mirror along with Todd’s gaping, awestrucked stare, it froze. Then, it darted behind his head and disappeared.

“What the…” Todd made a wild grab for the back of his head, scrabbling at his scalp. He felt a bulge where it burrowed itself under his hair—groped—felt it move across his head, around and around, down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He yelped and twisted his neck, hearing a panicked squeaking arise from down his shirt.

The… _ thing… _scurried, Todd chased, and they wrestled each other back and forth until both were panting and pumped full of adrenaline and shock.

Finally, Todd gained the upper hand. He snatched the creature up in his hand.

It struggled futilely before stilling. It stared up into Todd’s eyes with its own, huge and watery baby-blues. They carried a glint, a sparkle, that seemed oddly familiar. It niggled at the back of his mind until it caught and the remembrance floated into the front.

“Huh,” he said.

The creature squeaked and nuzzled Todd’s thumb. Todd felt something melt into something warm and glowing inside of his stomach. 

“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, giving in and stroking its little fuzzy head. “I think I know where you came from.”

The creature tilted his head in a familiar gesture. The resemblance was astonishing.

Todd reached his hand to the back of his neck and slowly let go. The creature made a satisfied, puppy-purr noise, and plastered itself against the back of his neck, alarmingly warm and pulsing in a way that resembled a strong, steady heartbeat.

After looking into the mirror and affixing a casual look of nonchalance that would convince passerbys of his total and complete Normalcy, Todd exited the washroom, went back up the stairs, and made a beeline towards the alleyway he passed by every morning—except this time, it wouldn’t be an alley, and this time, that was what he was hoping for.

“Good afternoon!” came the brightly-chirped greeting, enthusiasm brimming like an overfilled mug of sunshine and rainbows. Dirk emerged once again from the back of the counter (his hair more wildly mussed this time, like he had curiously stuck his finger through an electric outlet). He lit up with a thousand-watt smile when he saw Todd. “Oh, you’re back again! And so soon!”

“You did something,” Todd said with no preamble.

Dirk halted, blinked, hesitated. “Um, well,” he said. “I do a lot of things, really. What specific thing did I do, exactly?”

In response, Todd ran a hand through his hair and took it out, squeaking and squirming, wrapped around his fingers. He held it out for Dirk to see.

Dirk seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, astonishingly, his face began to turn red. “Oh, dear,” he said, voice faint.

At the sight of Dirk, the creature stopped struggling. It squeaked loudly and extended its arms with wings outstretched.

Dirk extended a hand, allowing it to climb onto his palm, where it curled up into a ball and closed its eyes. A low, quiet purring sound rumbled out from its core.

When Dirk looked back up at Todd, the flush of his face hadn’t lessened—in fact, it seemed to have deepened.

“I’m very sorry,” he said. “I, um. Didn’t mean for that to happen.” He shook his head, looking agitated. “Is there—oh, dear, it must’ve been such a shock, to find such a thing—is there anything I can do to make it up?”

“Yeah,” Todd said, “you can start by telling me _ what _exactly that thing is.”

“Oh,” Dirk said, and flushed even deeper. “Well. Erm.”

Todd waited, pointedly.

“It’scalledacrushpuppy,” Dirk said in a rush.

Todd paused. “A hush puppy?” he said.

Dirk shook his head. “A—a crush puppy,” he mumbled, face flaming. In the middle of his outstretched hand, the puppy—the _ crush _puppy—whimpered softly, and nuzzled its head against his palm.

“A crush puppy,” Todd repeated after a long silence.

“Yes,” Dirk said, barely audible. “It’s, um. Basically what it says on the tin.”

Todd looked at the curled-up ball of fluff in the middle of Dirk’s hand, its wings curled up and wrapped around itself like a soft, downy blanket. “And it attached itself to me,” he said. 

The twist of Dirk’s mouth and the redness in his face gave away enough. 

Todd waited a while, and then he reached out with an index finger towards the puppy. He lightly stroked its head with the pad of his finger. It made a happy rumbling noise in its sleep.

“Does it have a name?” Todd asked.

“I told you already—”

“No,” Todd interrupted. “A real name.”

Dirk’s face was a mixture of apprehension, confusion, and the shimmering shine of hope just beneath the turmoil. “Not yet,” he admitted.

Todd felt his lips tugging at the corners. “We should come up with a name for it,” he said.

“What?” Dirk blurted suddenly, before appearing to yank himself back. “I mean, if you want?” he approached, faux-casualty shimmering like a thin layer of oil above rolling waves of apprehension.

“Yeah,” Todd said. “I want to.” He looked at Dirk. “We can decide on a name together over coffee.”

Dirk blinked owlishly. “Coffee?”

“Well, you did just crush-puppy me,” Todd said, smiling. “It’s the least I can do.”

Dirk seemed to be, suddenly, for the first time, for a lack of words, speechless.

“When do you close shop?” Todd asked.

“Seven,” Dirk replied automatically.

“Great,” Todd said cheerfully. “I’ll be back at seven. See you then!”

His favourite TV show could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> My first minibang! I hope you enjoyed this short little piece. Comments make my inner crush puppy very, very happy <3
> 
> Hopefully, accompanying artwork will be up soon! I'll post a link if it comes ^^


End file.
